


The Heptagon Herald

by RotherhamMan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Horror, Boss/Employee Relationship, Deal with a Devil, Forced Orgasm, Fucking, Horror, Inanimate Objects, Loss of Control, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Newspapers, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Object Penetration, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Suit Sex, Suits, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RotherhamMan/pseuds/RotherhamMan
Summary: Ed has worked for the Heptagon Herald for seven years, giving all his time and talent to the paper and its boss.But his boss wants more from him, more than Ed could ever have imagined!
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was a requested commission.

The Heptagon Herald didn’t celebrate its anniversary in tens like other establishments. Rather than every ten years the CO of the business chose to celebrate every seven years for reasons no one was very clear on. The CO was always a member of the same family who had founded the newspaper and overseen its success over the many decades and it seemed the family tradition for the family business to celebrate things in sevens, rather than tens. The daily newspaper worked on a cycle of sevens and it seemed to show great results.

Ed Blake didn’t question, or care, why it was done like this. Tonight he was just happy to party with his colleagues. He had joined the paper days after their last seven-year party, his predecessor having left during the party for some reason, and had heard tales of how great it was and had never really forgotten them, having been the subject of many conversations on those first days in the office. He had hoped to stay on there long enough to take part in the next one and had been looking forward to it for months now it was here.

He needn’t have worried about being kept on for that long. It had quickly become apparent he was a natural at journalism, doing well in every aspect, and had only gotten better over the years. His gift had made some resentful at first but his personality had won over many of those who had initially disliked him. He was friendly and charming, in both manner and looks. He had a rugged handsomeness witch could never look fully civilised but people loved that, thinking he was some kind of wild man, a beast in the gym and in bed. Many had said he could take over the business from the Bridges family if he wanted but everyone knew it was not true.

The Bridges would never let anyone who wasn’t a true blood descendant of the founder run the business. It was an odd custom for the twenty-first century but legal and effective. The current Mr Bridges was king of all he surveyed and had taken an early interest in the career of Ed. Some even likened the younger man to the son he had never had, their ages being appropriate and Bridges treating him as much as a son as well as a protégée. Claps on the back and compliments of ‘good job’ were given to him once a week and made him preen with pride and, only he knew and took a while to accept, a semi in his underwear from the praise.

As much as he always tried to impress his boss Ed determined to have a good time that night at the office party. If he was a little drunk around midnight he wasn’t going to care who judged. He joked and laughed with his friends, happily finding out what they were like when they weren’t being so uptight. He had even gotten a few looks and wondered if he would end up one of those guys who had a drunken one night stand in the closet at a party. He was sure he would regret it after but in his drunken state he would do it if the right person propositioned him.

Then Mr Bridges himself walked in and the party stalled out of respect for the king. He was wearing his suit, as always, and wore it perfectly as if it was new and made to fit him like a second skin. He had a presence of power that was almost tangible and even though his face was warm and smile deep at the sight of his employees partying they still felt self conscious and partied a little less under his gaze. His build was that of a man of power too, if he were seen in the right setting he might be mistaken for royalty.

Ed was suddenly aware of how drunk he was and, by comparison, underdressed in a slightly rumpled t-shirt and jeans that, by choice, were a bit tight in all the right places. Determined to act casual he took another drink from his plastic cup and when he lowered it he found himself the sole subject of his boss’s eyes. For a few moments he felt dread wash over him but didn’t let it show and forced the feeling away. Don’t be stupid, he thought, You’ve worked here for seven years and proven how valuable you are, he can’t just fire you for partying at a party he is throwing! It’s not like he doesn’t know you have a social life outside work!

So he met the gaze of the boss and, because he sometimes didn’t know when to stop pushing his look, took another drink even though he didn’t want one, keeping eye contact the whole time.

Bridges returned the eye contact. Eventually he smiled warmly. “I’m glad to see you all having a good time,” he said at last, and there was a collective sigh of relief. Everyone started chatting again, if a little awkwardly.

Ed however wasn’t among them. Bridges approached him and Ed felt another spike of fear. Bridges face was capable of instilling fear as well as reassurance.

“I’m afraid I need to steal you away from the celebrations,” he said to him in his deep rumble. “I know you wanted to celebrate but I need to discuss something important with you tonight. It can’t wait.” He must have been able to tell how disappointed Ed was because he leaned in and continued in a low voice so only he could hear, “It’s concerning your future here at the paper.” He leaned in even closer, Ed could feel his breath on his ear as he spoke felt a hot flush that had nothing to do, but wasn’t helped by, his drunkenness. “I have something special planned, just for you.”

Ed looked up at him but Bridges held up a hand and put on a smile to stop him speaking. Like magic Ed stopped speaking before he even started, Bridges had always had that effect on people. He somehow felt reassured that whatever this meant for his future it was a good thing. If it made the company stronger then he would do it. Bridges was still in his personal space, Ed didn’t want to be the one who left first.

Ed followed Bridges to his office, always a step behind and never in front, in his place in respect of his leadership. Were it someone else and some other boss he would have snickered and thought they were like a dog following his master but Bridges was a man to be respected and obeyed.

His office was a very nice corner one on the same floor of the office building and very spacious, like a living area as well as an office. There was a desk at the far end and several chairs and sofas around a table for social meetings. On the wall were framed pieces of art, almost thirty origami figures, made from newspapers, lined the wall perfectly and elegantly, in poses of all kinds. Ed had studied them when he had been in the office before. “Specially made, one every seven years,” was all Mr Bridges had said when he had asked about them. There was the number seven again; Ed wondered if he would ever find out what the deal was with that number.

The office spoke of success and Ed dreamed of one day earning an office like it, maybe in this very building at the newspaper. All he had to do was continue playing his cards right, and tonight seemed to be a sign that he had done well so far. Bridges had said he had a future here, he was surely going up in the world! He wished he wasn’t drunk for this but surely Mr Bridges would understand, he had chosen to bring this up at the party after all. He tried to sober up through willpower alone.

Bridges had wordlessly gone over to the corner where a top-of-the-range drinks cabinet was now open as he made drinks for the two of them, not caring about his employee’s already drunken state.

“Ed,” he began, and Ed repressed a shudder. He loved hearing that deep voice say his given name. He had thought himself straight until he had found himself working for Bridges and knew he would be the only man he could ever be with if he wanted to try a male lover—and if he wanted to risk his career! “Ed, you have been here for just shy of seven years, and in all that time you have only gotten better at what you do here.”

He turned to face the younger man. He held two glasses in his hands, both filled with a grey looking liquid Ed couldn’t recognise. He strode over to him and handed him one. “You have become my most valuable employee and, dare I say, someone I care for personally.”

For the first time Ed had, and was painfully aware of, a hard on for a man—his boss—and was sure if he was asked he would give himself to the man sexually. He was definitely drunk, and thinking with the wrong head. Bridges handed him one of the glasses and as Ed took it their fingers brushed. Ed was very aware of the contact and how it was making his face go hot and red.

“I have also seen you make sacrifices for the newspaper: many all-nighters, missed dates and family engagements. You clearly care for the paper and put it first, that is a quality that cannot be overlooked or taken likely.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, unable to meet his gaze, though he felt it on him, and instead looking at the drink. Before he could stop himself he asked, “What is this? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” It was grey with streaks of black in it, like a protein shake he would take at the gym.

Bridges chuckled. “It’s a special family recipe. Not many outside the family get to try it; you’re being let in on something few others have been.”

Ed looked up at his boss and, without thinking that he may be expected to wait for a toast, raised the glass and drank the grey liquid, which was more like a sludge. If it was good enough for the Bridges family then it was more than good enough for him.

Bridges chuckled again as he watched the young man chug it down. “I have heard some of the others talking about how you might be the next to own the newspaper, that you have the skill to take it from me and my family.”

Ed choked on the last of the drink. It hadn’t been nice at all but he had drunk it down for his boss and didn’t spill a drop even as he almost choked.

Before he could speak to defend himself Bridges was continuing. “I have to agree that you have all the skills to run the business and run it well, I even considered bringing you into the family so you could be part of the company permanently. It is a strict rule only someone of Bridges blood can run the company but that doesn’t mean someone outside the family couldn’t play a pivotal role. You could be part of the family by being adopted by myself, even at your age, or even if I married you.”

Ed was speechless. His boss was talking about adopting him or even taking him as a husband. He must be dreaming. His earlier thoughts on having a one night stand in the closet were now forgotten, replaced with thoughts of the first of many in the boss’ office. Now he was hard, there was no denying it anymore.

He was just daring to believe it was true when Bridges’ face took on a look that he had never seen on him before: sadness. “Unfortunately,” Bridges said, “It then hit me that you are too good a worker to ever be an integral part of its future. You are the one employee I least want to part with, which means I have to. For the good of the company.”

Ed blinked in confusion but then Bridges’ face and voice took on an edge that did not bode well. “Lock the door,” he said. There was nothing friendly in the voice. This was an order that demanded and expected complete obedience.

Ed, to his astonishment, found himself doing just that. He crossed to the door and locked it before returning to his boss. He opened his mouth to ask a question, he didn’t know what. But Bridges snapped at him to be quiet—and he found himself incapable of noise. He didn’t know if it was simply a desire or instinct to obey Mr Bridges or whether he had literally had no choice.

Mr Bridges was looking at him in a way he didn’t like. He had seen men on the street and some of his lesser fiends aim that look at women in a way that made his skin turn. It was the look of a man who wanted something bad and was thinking about how good it would feel to take it. He had thought about it himself once or twice but those looks were of men who thought about actually doing it. He had even had the look aimed at himself once or twice by meatheads in the gym or the occasional guy on the street. Like he was meat and they wanted to beat him before they ate him. That look from Mr Bridges, a man he had respected and secretly wanted, might once have been welcome but now he was disturbed by it. Bridges was looking less and less like the boss Ed had come to know and more like a stranger. Ed remembered his choice in clothing and regretted it.

“The newspaper must always be in the family, that was the deal that was made. A deal that is honoured every seven years. Tonight is the last night you will serve me and the paper, by giving your all to it, as you have for the last seven years. I know you love the paper as much as I, so I don’t feel too bad about this as I have with others.”

“So long as the deed is done, then it doesn’t matter how or what I do in the meantime,” he said. Something about that sentence scared Ed and he tried to move but couldn’t without permission from the boss.

“Strip.” A simple command and simple to follow. Ed obeyed without thinking and began stripping his clothes off and tossing them aside with no care. He had a good body, he knew, going to the gym once a day in the morning or evening and eating well. He usually hid it well under baggy clothes but he had only a thin layer of fat over hard and lean muscle. He stood, hiding nothing from his boss in the middle of his office.

From the other side of the building he could just hear the party continuing.

Bridges slowly looked him up and down, drinking in his form. Ed wanted to cover his manhood in an act of self-consciousness rather than shame but his arms were stiff at his sides. His erection had wavered but was still evident, jutting out so it could not be missed, sex inches and nicely sized balls, made all the more impressive looking by their perfect shave to compliment his otherwise carefully manscaped body. Bridges was still fully and immaculately dressed.

“I must admit I liked you for more than your work,” said Bridges as he began to walk around the man, taking him in from every angle, slowly spiralling in on him. “You’re attractive and you know it. Why you’ve hidden it under those clothes I’ll never understand. I saw glimpses of your muscles, even saw you by chance leaving the gym once, sweaty and in tight fitting clothes. I went home and came so fucking hard thinking of you. I wasted my seed on my chest rather then on you.”

The thought of Bridges cumming because of him was something that brought a twisted sense of pride to Ed, twisted only because of his current situation. He couldn’t turn his head to look as he felt the man’s fingers lightly brush over his shoulder muscles and biceps. If he could move he would have shuddered from the gentle touch.

“Not a month went by I didn’t want to ask you to be my fuck-buddy,” continued Bridges in a deep rumbling murmur that was almost intimate, “Or maybe even blackmail you into bending over for me, but I needed your employment more than I wanted your body. I couldn’t risk you leaving.”

The fingers were now travelling down his back muscles, running along his spine. Ed could see their reflections in the window, Mr Bridges mostly hidden by his own naked image.

“The fact is, this has been waiting for you since the day you signed the forms to enter my employment. The only way you could have avoided this was by accidental death or if you had walked out. The first I could do nothing to prevent but you yourself prevented the latter. You would never stop working to be the best, just like you’ve worked on that body. Your own success sealed your fate.”

The fingers were joined by the ones of his other hand as they reached the invisible boundary between his lower back and ass cheeks. Ed had never been touched like this, like he was a precious work of art. Delicate and to be treated with care. It was like he was a sculpture in a museum, like Michelangelo’s David on display just for Bridges, but had David ever been touched like this?

“So here you are at last. Mine, for the time being. With the deed as good as done, I can take what I want with no risk. I’m sorry it had to be this way, it could have been good for both of us, but its better like this. Better no there is no risk of you leaving. I can just take what I want.”

The hands on his ass cheeks became firm and grabbed at them possessively, kneading deep into the flesh and muscle. No longer was he delicate, now he was meat.

Mr Bridges spoke again and this time it was a growl. “All those years serving the paper, now you will serve me for tonight before you give the rest of your life to the paper. Tonight it is about me!”

Some part of Ed’s mind was relieved that Bridges only wanted him for a single night and that it wouldn’t end with his death. Some other part was terrified at what he meant about the rest of his life and how his fate had been decided before him years ago. The rest of him was just scared at this unexplained power his boss had over him. He tried again to move but couldn’t. Why couldn’t he move? Had he been drugged, that was another thing that happened at parties. The only drink he hadn’t made for himself was the strange grey one Bridges had made for him. He hadn’t seen what was put in the glass, what the hell was in that drink?


	2. Chapter 2

Bridges kicked his legs apart into a wide stance and then bent him forward at the waist and manipulated him to grip onto the arms of the chair in front of him. His ass was exposed and Ed, not for the fist time since he had met Bridges, wondered what it was like to be fucked in the ass. He had pictured it a little rough but with care from the older and stronger man, he had even dared to imagine it happening in this office. Never had it been like this though.

Again Bridges was grabbing and squeezing his cheeks with murmurs of how he waited for this and wanted him for years. Then he disappeared for a few moments, leaving Ed in suspense and unable to look around or ask what the hell was going on. He still couldn’t move, only able to be manipulated by his boss—he couldn’t even bring himself to think of him as a former boss yet. Only his eyes could roll about in his head but his range was limited to the chair and his own immobile arms. They looked pale, no doubt it was the shock or whatever was in his drink.

The first he knew that his boss had returned was the low swish of the air followed by a smack and a pain on his ass that, just a few moments ago, had been treated so gently. The object that had his him was hard but Ed knew by instinct what it was: a rolled up newspaper. Was this a kink of the Bridges family, he wondered before it hit him again. Ed had never experimented with kink but this might have done it for him under other circumstances. Like a daddy teaching his son a lesson. But this wasn’t a lesson, it was about Bridges exercising his power.

Bridges hit him repeatedly with the paper with increasing strength. Ed didn’t know how strong he was, having never seen him in anything less than a suit, but knew from his build he was strong. Every now and then he heard movement and his assailant switched to a backhand to focus on his other cheek. Ed couldn’t make a sound to express his pain. A newspaper might not have the power of a cane or a paddle but used hard enough and repeatedly began to build up. Inside he cried out and asked for his mentor to stop, not quite ready to beg but he knew he was close. Bridges too seemed frustrated at his lack of response, hitting him harder and faster, making up for the silence by making sure any noise Ed could have made would have been cries of pain.

It was hard to believe that there was a party, still just audible, happening not fifty feet away and that he had been a part of it not thirty minutes ago. Had Ed been told as he had left his flat for the evening that he would be naked with Bridges in his office in a sexual act he would have spent the day with the goofy grin of a guy who knows he’s gonna get laid. He had almost wished for this.

The spanking stopped, not because Bridges was tired, he wasn’t even panting with effort, but because he was warmed up, it seemed. Ed had occasionally covered stories of rape from the victims, once or twice interviewing them. He had found it to be the most awkward thing he had ever done and had imagined the dread of knowing what was going to happen and being powerless to prevent it. He thought of that now as he heard the unmistakable sound of Bridge’s belt being unbuckled. The boss was still in his suit, like it never came off for anything. Now Ed would have been begging if he could speak as something touched him where he had never been touched before.

“I just know that tight rosebud there hasn’t been fucked before,” growled Bridges, rubbing a thumb over his entrance. “Perfect, its just for me. This is a special night.”

When he felt the tip of the real thing brush his rear he knew that, thank god, the man was using something for lube. When the tip found his entrance and began applying pressure there was little he could do. He couldn’t even clench his rectum to protest the entry. Bridges slid in with a moan of satisfaction and Ed felt himself part to make way. The man’s cock must have been about of average length but greater in girth. The first intrusion in his ass felt huge, like he would tear in half like a newspaper but he could do nothing to express his pain.

He had a mouth but he could not scream.

Once Bridges was all the way in he rested and seemed to savour the feeling. Ed could feel the fabric of his suit making contact with his skin along with the balls that were knocking into his own, the only flesh contact until the man’s hands grabbed onto his hips. The man’s skin was hot like a furnace and he felt his skin give way beneath his grip. He felt weak by that touch alone, like he was in danger of breaking.

“I wish you could talk,” Bridges gasped, holding himself back from just pounding his ass, “I wish you could moan and beg me for more, that you could writhe or even fight back and clench down on my cock. Shame the process leaves you with less control over your body. Still, I’m sure you would tell me how much you love it, I’ve seen you looking, the way you light up when I tell you what a good boy you’ve been, always trying to please me. I am pleased, boy, you’ve pleased your boss. Now here’s your reward.”

He pulled back and thrust in. Then again, and again. Ed could feel every bit of it but was aware that whatever was happening to his body was numbing the feelings some. But however much the physical feeling was numbed he still felt the emotional pain.

He had looked up to Bridges, respected him, and wanted nothing more to be like him. And what was worse the man had felt the same, had looked to him as a son and even with lust. However messed up that combination might be he had still felt such joy and pride at hearing it. But then it had somehow become less than nothing. He was now just a way for Bridges to get off and a toy for his pleasure.

Ed felt numb. Except for the pounding his ass was taking.

When Bridges came it was with a muffled roar, a sound Ed would have loved to hear under better circumstances. He felt himself being filled up as the cock inside him pulsed seemingly endlessly. After a few moments of panting ridges slipped out and Ed felt something wet run down his leg. Funny how it was the little things that stuck in your mind. The something dried up quickly, as if his skin absorbed it, he could almost feel the trail as if it have been burned, printed even, on his inner thigh.

Bridges picked him up. He did it like it was nothing. Ed knew the man was strong but this was wrong, the way he was being handles was like he weighed barely anything. He was put down on the table in the centre of the office, on his back and with his legs still raised and spread and arms out in front of him as if still holding him up on the chair. Bridges angled his head to make Ed look down at himself and where Bridges himself now sat, on the chair he had been braced on, between his legs.

Before he sat though, Ed saw his softening cock and balls handing from his open fly. There was something strange on it, both a paste on the shaft and something black smeared over the tip. It wasn’t his own shit, he was sure. It looked more like…

Bridges smiled at him, gently stroking his thigh up and down, like a lover in a post-sex afterglow. “You were great, Ed,” he said gently, “I know I was too.” He chuckled.

Ed could not respond. He wasn’t sure he would have even if he could, there were no words for what had just been done.

“You are probably overdue an explanation,” said Bridges, picking up the rolled up newspaper. “I never bothered to give one to the others but I think you are owed one. You’re special, Ed.”

Ed dint feel special as he watched what Bridges did with the newspaper. He produced from somewhere a handful of he grey paste that he had seen on his cock and smeared it in the paper like he was masturbating it. Was it paper paste?

“Just over two hundred years ago my family started out in the newspaper game. It was a hard business and my great-granddaddy used every trick in the book to get ahead but not many worked. In his desperation he tried one last trick. He tried a deal with the devil. Now, many others have tried but he was smart in the old ways and the deal was struck and sealed. So long as there was a sacrifice every seven years, the paper would flourish under our family—and only family of my great-granddaddy’s blood.”

The roll of paper was slimy with the paste now and Bridges lined it up with its target and eased it in. It was thicker than Bridges cock and longer and Ed internally wailed as it was slid up his ass.

“There were other catches, a you might have seen I cum ink, and use paper-paste as lube, but that’s no real worry. The real problem is the sacrifice. See, my great-granddaddy reasoned that a sacrifice was only worth anything if you were offering up something important to you. Any random guy off the street wouldn’t do, it had to be someone special and, preferably, be employed at the paper.”

In and out the paper was going, reaching unknown depths inside him and getting in a little further each time. Ed might have enjoyed it had this been a willing experience, his boss using him like this with a newspaper and smiling over him. They were both hard, but for very different reasons. Ed just felt dirt.

“So, every seven years, our family has offered up the best employee we have up as an offering. Maybe they don’t need to be special but it’s not a risk worth taking. If the offering is accepted then the paper prospers with or without them and we carry on. There was never any question over the last seven years who the next sacrifice would be.”

Ed’s own success had landed him here. His natural god-given talent and hard work was being rewarded with this. As with every other child he had been told that hard work would see him make it in life and being a good person would bring good things. He had done everything right, and it had led him to this: being fucked against his will with a newspaper by his boss. 

“I think that’s enough, now be a good boy for me and cum!”

Unable to resist the order Ed came. The orgasm was the strongest of his whole life and he would swear his vision whited out for the fist time ever. His balls emptied themselves completely over his stomach, chest and neck, with such force his cock felt sore and like his balls were squeezing themselves to get all the sperm out to impress his boss—story of his life. Dimly he registered that, like his boss, he too came ink onto his papery white skin.

Bridges stood, furiously fisting his own cock. “Good boy, I could always count on you. You’ve really set the bar for all my other employees, past and future.”

Such a warm and complimentary statement did not stop Bridges from forcing the rolled up paper further into Ed’s ass and somehow getting the whole roll in. Ed knew it should have been impossible for it to fit but it wasn’t the fist impossible thing he had seen that night. The act sent Bridges over the edge and he came again, this time shooting onto Ed and now he could see the thick black liquid being ejaculated all over his body, covering him even more than his own had.

Once he had calmed down and tucked himself back into his trousers—he still looked perfect in his suit, not a hair out of place after fucking and abusing his star employee—Bridges seemed to move onto the next stage of whatever devil-worship-ritual he was performing. He straightened Ed’s body out, legs together and arms by his sides and stood him in the largest open space of the room. He was careful, once again Treating Ed with delicate hands, the abrupt change in attitude giving him an emotional whiplash. The newspaper inserted inside him was firmly lodged and unforgettable.

Then he retrieved a large newspaper. After what had been done with the last one Ed silently whimpered over the use of this once.

“Do you like it? This was specially made just for you. It’s a newspaper filled with nothing but your articles. All the ones you wrote and edited and took pictures for.” Ed had no idea he had written so much, it was a whole newspaper’s worth. Bridges looked at it fondly. “You really could do anything, and here’s the proof. It’s all you—or rather it soon will be.”

Bridges set to work. He took one large sheet of paper at a time and wrapped it tightly around a part of Ed’s body, folding it expertly where needed. He then used a paper paste to stick it together, before moving onto the next sheet on another part of his body. He worked with the skill and patience of an artist as he paper-mashied Ed’s body from head to toe. Even his face was covered tightly without suffocating him. Something told Ed that breathing was the least of his worries. Bridges must have used the whole newspaper, covering him in several layers of newspaper. Ed should, he knew, have felt warm under it all but felt nothing.

“That should do. The last part of the process will take the rest of the night, not much more I can do with you until it’s done. You have a lot to process so I’ll leave you to it. I’m paying for the party so I might as well enjoy it!”

Ed faintly heard the door close, and he was alone.

He used every fibre of his being to try and move, to make a sound, anything that might help him in any way but it was all futile. He was trapped in his own body, only able to hear and smell and think, there was nothing to see now his eyes had been covered. The smell of paper was all consuming, the only thing for him now, no sound reached him. It was oppressive on him, no part of him was untouched by it, even between his legs and under his arms had been wrapped along with his genitals and ass crack! Bridges had clearly done this before.

What was it he had said? Every seven years. Part Ed had been part of less than an hour ago—unbelievable though it sounded—was to celebrate the paper’s two-hundredth-and-third year, that meant twenty-nine sets of seven parties, including tonight. Not counting himself that meant there had been twenty-eight others! Ed remembered the day he had started work there, how his predecessor had left his job unexpectedly—and was last seen at the party of that year!

Bridges had done this to him too. He must have down it to every sacrifice, and been taught to do it by his father no doubt. If the family had been getting away with this for all those years, they must truly have the luck of the devil!

Ed could not cry, he was unable to do that in his current state, but he was in every sense but physically.

\-----

When the haze of time was over Ed suddenly came back to awareness. He wasn’t sure when or how he had drifted away from his own mind, the terror he had felt and sensory deprivation somehow became a timeless blur and now ended like this. He couldn’t move, he wasn’t even sure what state his body was in. He had been standing, encased in newspaper in the middle of the room but now he seemed to be lying on the floor staring at the ceiling, not able to so much as blink.

He tried to stave off the creeping fear that he wasn’t in his own body any more. Bridges had talked about a process, was it over? Or was there yet more to come! If this was devils magic who knew when the horrors might end?

Eventually, after a period measured only by the movement of the morning sunlight across the walls, Bridges stood over him. Ed tried to speak but didn’t think he had a mouth any more. If he had then they would be hearing him screaming from all over the city over the morning. Now Bridges was here what did he want to say to him? He was too scared and desperate to be changed back to insult him, he would have just begged and babbled mindlessly for his freedom, promising everything and anything for things to go back to how they were, even if it meant trading places with someone else to suffer this fate.

Bridges was smiling with satisfaction and, maybe he was just projecting, pride. Ed knew then that it was far too late for him. Whatever had been done could not be undone.

“Well, aren’t you a fine one? A perfect piece of black magic. You always excelled in every task I set you, right till the end.” He reached down and, in a manor Ed didn’t understand, picked him up and held him aloft. “Take a look.”

Bridges carried him through to the office’s on-suite and held him before the wall mirror. Ed had a perfect view of himself in the reflection.

He was a sheet of newspaper. His name was printed a the top like a headline and a picture of himself was taking up most of the rest of the space, words he couldn’t make out forming a column on either side and bottom. It was a picture he knew he had never posed for, he was dressed in a suit, his hair groomed to perfection and in a casual, smiling pose that was a million miles from how he felt.

“Don’t you look sharp? Just like if you were my son, or lover, or both!” The man chuckled and Ed felt himself and saw his reflection tremble with the movement. The slightest pressure in the wrong place and he would tear so easily.

“One last thing to do.” Bridges carried him back into the office and laid him out on the table, oblivious to Ed’s silent protests and pleas to not do any more to him.

“I think this is going to be painful,” Bridges said. “But no one’s ever complained.”

And Bridges began to fold him. Carefully and with laser focus and mathematical precisions, the sheet of paper that was Ed was folded like he was a piece of origami. With every fold Ed felt his whole being twist and bend in excruciating ways. The paper he was had no equivalent for the different parts of the body but with one fold he felt what was like his spine twisting. Another was like an arm bending the wrong way. His vision bent too and he could see in multiple directions, soon able to see the whole office at once. His mind screamed as if it too were being twisted, or maybe he was just going mad from the trauma of his ordeal. Who wouldn’t in his place?

He could see what Bridges did when he was finished. He pulled out of a fancy bag a picture frame and laid it out on the table to place Ed’s new form in it and seal up the back. He was now trapped between the glass and white background of the picture frame. He was then lifted and hung on the wall. Ed remembered the many origami figures lining the wall and gave another internal wail. How many times had he been in the office and admired them, all the while they had been watching back after going through the same as he, maybe even trying to warn him of what was coming.

Bridges stepped back and admired the addition to his origami figure collection. He would now have to rely on old pictures and memories of Ed to get himself off. Maybe he would be lucky to come across someone who looked similar but they would never match his spirit. He also had a new job vacancy to fill. He always conducted the interview in his office, every potential new addition to the collection seeing it on the first day and the collection seeing everyone who might join them. Maybe the new guy would be next, or maybe an existing employee. He may even have to hire a whole group of people to replace Ed, so skilled and valued as he had been. But it was a sacrifice for the paper, Bridges reminded himself.

He looked again at the new figure; Ed would always be with him, now. He would have to put on a show later to show him how horny he still made his boss.


End file.
